Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/53

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TO EMMA.

5. O'er fields through which we us'd to run,  And spend the hours in childish play; O'er shades where, when our race was done,  Reposing on my breast you lay; 6. Whilst I, admiring, too remiss,  Forgot to scare the hovering flies, Yet envied every fly the kiss,  It dar'd to give your slumbering eyes: 7. See still the little painted bark,  In which I row'd you o'er the lake; See there, high waving o'er the park,  The elm I clamber'd for your sake. 8. These times are past, our joys are gone,  You leave me, leave this happy vale; These scenes, I must retrace alone;  Without thee, what will they avail? 9. Who can conceive, who has not prov'd,  The anguish of a last embrace? When, torn from all you fondly lov'd,  You bid a long adieu to peace.